One year ago today, on a rainy day in San Francisco, I packed all of my belongings in a 6x8x8 storage unit. I had no clue when I would be unpacking it, where or with who. I didn’t imagine that a year later, I’d still be traveling.

I have been living out of a backpack, traveling the U.S., Australia, and Europe for 12 months while working 40-60 hours a week in Pacific Coast hours. I have explored corners of the world and myself in ways I am still trying to understand. I have been invigorated and exhausted… inspired and discouraged…. enamored and lonely…

I still haven’t had time to process it all, I’ve remained in a constant state of movement since I returned stateside in May… I have been flying or driving my SmartCar to visit friends in many cities, completing 5 more Tough Mudders and have started studying to become a certified personal trainer. There has been little rest, but a lot of love and learning.

I’m at a crossroads in my life, relationship and career… vulnerable and exposed in ways I’ve never felt before. I’ve learned to exist more peacefully in the proverbial ‘grey area‘ but it’s not been easy or something I’m entirely comfortable with.

I have a few more weeks of travel before I return to San Francisco on January 3rd to begin the next big adventure… finding home. I crave this stability. I cannot wait to return to my community there, I have traveled the world and realized that it is where I belong. It’s interesting what becomes clearer as the focus or lens changes. I’ll be unpacking and rooting in, creating routines and in some ways, beginning a new life in a familiar place. I’m walking the fine line between excited and terrified.